


"You Have Cuffs?"

by diemarysues



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quite frankly, Bilbo hadn’t expected to find smutty fiction in Erebor’s library.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"You Have Cuffs?"

Quite frankly, Bilbo hadn’t expected to find smutty fiction in Erebor’s library.

 

As someone who had done his fair share of reading over the years – and as someone who was not completely a stuffy prude, thank you – Bilbo’s reaction to finding this out was to calmly close the book in his hands and ask Ori to please get a head start on the East Wing, seeing as they were almost done here anyway.

 

Then he’d had the books sent up to his room. He’d even packed a few texts on gardening and Sindarin (which he did plan on reading) along with them, in case any curious noses poked themselves into the crate.

 

Once in private, Bilbo picked up the book he’d been perusing earlier and started to read it. One book became two, two became three, and before he knew it, his candle had burned low and he’d gone through almost a quarter of the books. He’d grown increasingly amused as it became clear that there were (or had been) Dwarf scribes who had apparently found it lucrative to specialise in bodice-rippers.

 

And they were undeniably bodice-rippers. No other genre included terms like ‘majestically engorged member’, ‘delicate petals between her legs’, and ‘nights of untold and wild passion’. Honestly. Bilbo wasn’t exactly the most carnal of beings (although recent changes in certain relationships would argue otherwise), but even _he_ knew that it was impossible for a male to recover from a vigorous bout of ‘bedroom activities’ after mere minutes.

 

Bilbo even found himself wondering if he could write a few under a pseudonym. The pattern of the plots was simple enough and he was sure he’d be reasonably good at it. It’d be amusing if they actually gained popularity.

 

It became a favourite pastime of his, reading the books. Today it was his pleasure to take his lunch in his little garden, snickering over lurid phraseology and groaning at tired descriptors. (In the four chapters he’d read so far, he’d come across ‘heaving bosom’ no less than twenty-seven times.)

 

He had just finished his sandwich and was sipping at some cool grape juice. Pausing to chortle helplessly at a particularly imaginative paragraph of narrative, Bilbo only had a second to realise that a shadow had fallen over his book before he found it snatched out of his grip.

 

He looked up, and his protests died on his tongue.

 

“What’re you reading?” Thorin asked, straightening. “ _He slipped his tongue into her mouth, the supple muscle battling for dominance as it fenced and twisted against hers. As his hands grasped greedily at her pert and generous breasts, he could tell by the way she mewled and gasped that she was practically dripping with female juices_ –”

 

“Thorin!” Bilbo finally managed to overcome his sudden paralysis and shot to his feet, grabbing the book. “Not so loud!”

 

The King looked utterly mystified – not to mention a little disgusted. “You _like_ these kind of books?”

 

“They’re hilarious.” Bilbo sniffed. “And I’m allowed to like whatever type of book I want.”

 

“That may be, but…” He frowned and lowered himself to the ground, waiting for Bilbo to follow suit before continuing. “Where did you even find this?”

 

“In the library, of course. There was a whole slew of them, all grouped together. Some are in Khuzdul, so I can’t read them, but there are a surprising number that are in Westron.” Bilbo reached into his basket of food and drew out two persimmons, handing one to Thorin.

 

“I thought you’d be shamed by such things.” He bit into his fruit and, as with all Dwarves Bilbo had met, was utterly uncaring of the juice that dripped into his beard.

 

“There is a difference between reading and experiencing.” Bilbo loosely held his own persimmon, deciding to wait before eating it. He was a little too engrossed in watching white teeth and pale pink lips against the fruit’s orange flesh.

 

“This is a refreshing side of you,” Thorin said, carelessly tossing the remnants of his persimmon over the wall. He licked at the juice on his fingers, and then wiped his chin with the back of his hand, unaware of his avid audience. “Though I’ll admit that I enjoy your blushing and stuttering.”

 

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “If you’re going to be insulting, my King, you can go find company elsewhere.”

 

“That’s just cruel.”

 

He pointedly opened the book, and carefully hid his smile when he felt Thorin shift to sit beside him, the both of them leaning against the trunk of a birch tree. Their shoulders pressed together companionably.

 

“Is that position even feasible?”

 

Bilbo bit his lip to stop his laughter. “Stop reading over my shoulder. It’s rude.”

 

Evidently, without the distraction of being rude, Thorin turned to even more diverting activities. Bilbo huffed when he felt hot breath on his neck, and whimpered when lips descended on his skin.

 

“Thorin, I’m busy.”

 

“Keep reading,” the Dwarf murmured, one large hand finding its way to rest companionably on Bilbo’s thigh.

 

Bilbo tried. He really did. He managed two pages of Cwryan writhing in rapturous pleasure underneath her mysterious lover (who was obviously the Dwarf she had been promised to marry) before the slow slide of Thorin’s tongue got the better of him.

 

Before he could shove Thorin onto the ground and have his way with him, the King lifted his head and pressed a finger to the middle of the page. Obviously he’d not listened to Bilbo and had continued reading over his shoulder.

 

“Can we try that one?” he asked.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed, written in one session. Just a little fun, because I am guilty of finding bad smut and snickering my way through it like the judgy person I am ;)
> 
> Fun fact: I wrote the notes for this between traffic lights, just so I wouldn't forget.


End file.
